


Keep Calm and Bake On

by eternity_in_my_pocket



Series: Winter Tropes 2018 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Baking, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Literally tooth rotting fluff, bucky is dreading baking, but changes his mind, no one can resist the bake fest, unnamed mother figure death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-04 21:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16797676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternity_in_my_pocket/pseuds/eternity_in_my_pocket
Summary: When Bucky opened the door to his apartment, he was hit with a scent wave of sugar and holiday spices that if it had hands it would have certainly knocked him to the floor. The smell sent his heart racing. He knew those smells. Hedreadedthose smells. He thought he had atleastone more week to prepare, but it was here: the Bake Fest.





	Keep Calm and Bake On

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of my Winter-Trope-Bingo-Challenge on Tumblr. For the BINGO card you can follow the link to see the post [HERE](https://eternity-in-my-pocket.tumblr.com/post/180362943864/its-almost-that-time-of-year-my-favorite-time). Go there if you're interested in participating!
> 
> This fic checks the box for **BAKING!!!**

When Bucky opened the door to his apartment, he was hit with a scent wave of sugar and holiday spices that if it had hands it would have certainly knocked him to the floor. The smell sent his heart racing. He knew those smells. He _dreaded_ those smells. He thought he had at _least_ one more week to prepare, but it was here: the Bake Fest.

They’d been friends for well over five years now, so this scene was nothing new – but it did always blow Bucky away with how fucking _intense_ his friend got when baking. When he’d met Nat in high school, she’d just moved to the area. She’d been adopted, passing in and out of foster homes since she was six, and her forever home just happened to be in his home town. And her adoptive mom just _happened_ to love baking. When they first befriended each other and Nat’s mom found out, she’d sent the feisty redhead to school with a tupperware full of muffins – which Natasha practically stole Bucky’s backpack and shoved the container in to hide her embarrassment.

However, the embarrassment eventually wore off. Baking became something Natasha and her adoptive mom did together and – frequently – drug Bucky in to do, too. It was a bonding experience full of sugar and love, matching aprons included. And, even though Natasha wouldn’t admit it, baking on her own reminded her of her mom. Their Freshman year of college was especially rough when she passed away. Natasha wouldn’t even touch a cookie. But when the holidays rolled around again and she wanted something to cheer herself up, the baking bowls made their appearance. Once she broke the ingredients out, she was a machine. This is what Bucky started to dub The Bake Fest: In attempts to make herself feel closer to her mother, Natasha baked her heart out and shared all the goods reaped. Cookies, cakes, pies. Every. Thing.

And it was wonderful, but dear god did it wear Bucky out.

He’d planned to look for the signs – extra bags of sugar and flour, new reusable food totes, anything – but he failed. He’d been dragged into the Bake Fest for the past two years, and it looked like he wasn’t going to avoid it this year either.

Bucky put down his backpack and turned through the living room to enter the kitchen and was met with the exact sight he was dreading. Natasha was busy in the kitchen, and it was as if a hurricane had swept through. Flour everywhere. Piles of bowls and unwashed spoons, dough of every color caking their contents. A collapsed pile of cookie cutters. Cooling racks. Jars of sprinkles in every color and piping bags made of ziplock baggies filled with matching colors of frosting. Her recipe note cards were taped to the kitchen cabinets that hung on the wall and she was currently standing in front of one reading it – hair tied back, flour and sugar up to her elbows, dirty spoon wielded like a dagger by her chest as she thought.

He coughed to make his presence known and Natasha spun on her heel, her serious face illuminating into a smile. She raised her hands and the spoon sent a small chunk of dough flying, “Great! You’re home – you can help!”

Bucky took a step forward but put up his hands – as if that motion could stop what was coming, “Nuh, uh. You get bossy when you bake. I’m not fucking up the sugar cookies again this year.”

Last year he forgot _to actually fucking add sugar_ to the sugar cookies which resulted in nicely shaped, beautifully decorated chunks of bland shit.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “You can do gingerbread then! I need help rolling them out, c’mon.”

Bucky groaned.

“There’s a box of double chocolate waiting for you if you help me.” She batted her eyelashes and simpered, playing up the puppy eyes knowing full damn well that it would work. 

“I can’t believe you’re actually conning me.”

“I can’t believe you’re caving this fast.”

He sighed, shrugging off his coat and hat, and made his way to the sink to wash his hands. “How many this year?”

“I’ve already made four kinds.”

“And?”

Natasha turned and tossed Bucky a towel to dry his hands off as he shut off the sink. Her smile was evil. Truly evil. Bucky groaned again, not liking the look on her face, “Just spit it out, Satan.”

“Four more kinds, twelve more dozen.”

Bucky visibly deflated. He should have also remembered that each batch made three dozen cookies. He _very much_ wanted to roll his eyes again, but he thought if he did they would roll so far back into his head he’d never be able to see anything but his brain ever again. But he wasn't going to do that. He was going to help, for Nat. So instead, he steeled himself; he straightened his back, and turned to Natasha with the most determined expression he could muster. 

“Alright. Let’s bake the shit outta these cookies.”

“That’s the spirit!”

She whirled around and dug through the cabinet pulling out an apron he’d never seen before. Natasha always bought ones for herself, but Bucky never bothered with one. He never bothered with one when he was invited to help in high school either – that was Nat and her mom’s thing. 

She placed it in his hands, “Just for you. My new favorite baker.”

Bucky unrolled the apron and forced himself not to melt. He could have started crying. Fucking hell.

“Do the honors?” He turned around so she could tie the strings behind his back, and when he turned around he pulled her into a sugar-coated hug. “I love you, chick.”

Natasha quickly hugged him, then pulled away but her smile was full of love too. “Don’t go soft on me, Barnes.”

Natasha’s apron was red, Bucky’s was blue. But the words matched: Keep Calm and Bake On.


End file.
